Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1887-04-30
SO 1 know how he meant to say this par

20 L kuOW HOW Ht iutdilt " say ILLS par
ticular kid cried.
Standard hadn't no need to tether Lady
to make her stop alongside, she was such a
reasonable beast; but he put her bride
over tree branch tor all that. Certainty
is worth a deal of faith, when it's about
being left alone in q ti-tree scrub without
your horse and kit.
Then he laid the little one on its mothers
shawl and set to work to bring the mother
to. He'd seen men exhausted, and laid
down to die from thirst and fatigue come
round, but he wasn't sure, he said, if a wo
man had TO be done for the same as man
he was,a single chap then. But he set to
and got little water first and then water
with a dash of brandy in it, between her
blue lips, and rubbed her forehead and
hands well. and laid her so as the blood
once the spirit had started it again
| could flow quicker to her poor brain. A
bushman has to be bit of doctor, you
know Then the baby started to help by
giving a loud shrek, and the young wo-
man opened her eyes and sighed like; and he
KEEP on giving her water and spirit as she
could take it till she could feel herself
more comfortable. He didn't start talking
| to her then, knowing she wanted all her
strength to come round but he put the
| baby back in her arms, and the mother i'll
her prompted her like to take good long
pull atthe drink in the billy-so as the kid
might get some in q while, You know.
| After a bit she started to cry in a low
sort of way, and then Standard, he set by
her and cheered her up, and told her not to
take on. He told her she was found; and
that all the worst OF being lost was done
with, and not to cry, and so on. All the
time, poor fellow, though he didn't hurry
| her. he knew he was losing time dreadfully,
| IL III 80
before nightfall. Thinking of that he
suddenly remembered the woman had got
to go too, or be left to die where she was.
| Standard was wondering what the deuce he
should do with her, when she started and
| told him him how she come there. 1t
seemed she was the wife of the store
keeper. Bannerman, that the boss of Pad
dy's Shanty had spoken of, and she says
when they had got part way through the
scrub two days before, mind YOU, they
stopped to change her on to the other
horse, and allow 'em to stand about
bit TO stretch their legs, the two men.
The fools never hitched the horses to any
thing All on sudden snake slid across
the track, right under the woman's feet.
She screamed out, and that startled
| the horses. OFF they went-bolted clean
| into the scrub, carrying every blessed thing
| they got with them-water, matches, the
billy, and everything. Her husband and
his chum tore after them, telling her TO be
sure and stop where she was She sat there
all alone, and there she'd set! First, wait
ing patient, and then a little frightened
and nervous as the lime went on. Then,
when it got dark and into the night, and
they didn't come, scared out of her life,
and shouting, shouting to 'em to guide EN-
to come back and she tells how she stood
there, not daring TO move, but trying to see
over the trees, and shouting till she couldn't
speak and they never come. By and by
she got thirsty and faint, and the child was
CRYING for drink and she'd nothing for it.
Then she walked on, hoping to get some
water; and then, she said, the trees seemed
all to wave about and close in on her, and
she sank down exhausted, and must have
till Standard found her.
She says to Standard: They must be
killed." and cries awfully.
Poor fellows" said Standard. He knew
| that being killed would be pleasant to
dying of thirst, as they most likely would
do once they got lost there. But ne tried
to comfort her, and, to please her, he shouts
again. Though, as he said after two days,
and she and the baby shouting all they
could most of the time, and they not come
back, it weren't likely they were within
hail now! He made her understand this
at last. Says he, Very likely they've got
to camp" to comfort her, you understand.
Then he started to say how was they and
the baby to get out of this? She didn't
want to move from where she was.
poor woman, in case her husband
should come back but Standard says
| to her: You can't do your husband
no good by stopping here, and if you get
quick to Gundaroo, you could tell 'em to
send out search party, and besides, ma am,
your little one can't manage another night
in the BUSH" 3 f
No, sir" she says. She was a gentle,
docile thing, and see he was right and
then she says to him. helpless and grateful
like, Couldn't we ride behind you, sir?"
Poor Standard He felt stumped. He
didn't know what to say. He looked at
the tall young woman and the baby, and
| then at himself and the horse already we'll
weighted with his camping knit and
the mails. 1t wasn't possible, and he
| knew it. There was ten miles or so
to be done that night before they got
to the creek. 1t was late now-nearly
| I. 1t would be dark as pitch in the scrub
before they got there, even if Lady
could carry all that load so far as
that but as to carrying them all to Gun
| daroo, eighty miles further on-he knew
she couldn't it. Besides, nothing was al
| lowed to delay the mails. He would be
late as it was, for the stop he'd made. 1t
must be a couple of days, at best before
| he'd get there, carrying all that extra
weight.
So Standard stood for moment or two
and thought it all over, while he watched
| the girl flor she was no more) straighten
herself and the child and struggle TO stand
| Seeing her stagger a bit called him to him.
| Golf arI hp thinks &c no har bic bopl
to steady her, Damn her Maiesty's mail
regulations I'll take her, somehow ~
So he gets his blanket out of his kit and
straps it behind the saddle, and then he
took and laid the baby on the tree root,
| while he swung the woman on the blanket
behind the saddle. Then he handed her
up the child and got carefully into the sad
die himself, leaving them all the room he
| could, she used to say. Lady looked
round bit doubtful of the extra weight
and the dangling petticoats on one side,
but started right enough when Standard
| told her it had got 10 be done
There wasn't much said on the ride. 1t
vas rough stepping and Lady d to
pick her way, and Standard had to help
| her and steady the poor lass behind with
| the baby in her right arm and her left
| hand on bis belt and she was looking and
! looking on both sides to see if she could
| see the TWO men. Except TO beg Standard
| TO stop minute and shout once or twice in
! case her husband and his chum were near,
| she never spoke. Standard knew it must
| be hopeless, and the further they got the
more hopeless it must get; but he was a
| tender-hearted fellow, and he couldn't
stand hearing the poor soul crying in
| hopeless sort of a way behind him, and not
do something to please her. But all the
way the baby lay there as peaceful and
comfortable as we are now this minute
| When they got to the creek it was nearly
| dark, and the woman was swaying in the
saddle, though she'd sat straight enough at
| fist. Noticing this, Standard says, sud-
denly: Missus, have you ever rode
alone?'
She gives sort of start, and sits up and
says: "Oh, yes, I've rode great deal when
| was girl; but I'm that tired now and
| feel so weak that l can't sit up She
thought he was wondering at her leaning
against him so heavy. But that wasn't
what Standard was thinking He knew